


Wear them with everything

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Comfort, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Minor Injuries, Other Pack(s), POV Derek, Protective Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7943950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"C'mon," Stiles said against the side of Derek's head, words muffled in his thick hair.  "Let's watch something or get naked.  Either way I'm sleeping here so I hope you bought hash browns."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wear them with everything

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "scars" for my cotton candy bingo card.

Derek heard Stiles pull up the building in the Jeep, rattling the whole way, then listened as the elevator made the slow ascent to the top floor. He opened the door for him as soon s Derek heard his quick footsteps outside. He kept his face flat and passive when he greeted Stiles but somehow he managed to see right through him.

"Dude, it's not that bad," Stiles said by way of a hello as he raised his arm gingerly. He was in a sling and bandaged from elbow to shoulder. 

"You're still hurt," Derek said gruffly and reached out to pull Stiles to him, burying his face in Stiles' neck so he could inhale his unique scent. It'd only been a few weeks since Thanksgiving but it was the longest they'd gone since Stiles went off to college and of course the worst happened.

Three days before winter break started Stiles was accosted on campus by a rival of the local pack where he was going to school. Stiles was under de facto association with the locals after an arrangement was made with the Beacon Hills pack. Both packs were happy for the alliance and Stiles was eager to learn from their emissary who was impressed by what Deaton had managed to teach Stiles before he left for school.

Unfortunately his guardian pack had some enemies from before the previous alpha had been overthrown and killed over a decade earlier. Proverbial gauntlets were thrown, claws came out and Stiles was caught in the middle of the fray, taking a nasty slice to his arm. He refused to tell Derek and Scott what werewolf it was and insisted the other pack would take care of it and it was their problem.

Derek made note to speak to Scott about contacting the other pack once the holidays were over, Stiles be damned.

"C'mon," Stiles said against the side of Derek's head, words muffled in his thick hair. "Let's watch something or get naked. Either way I'm sleeping here so I hope you bought hash browns."

Derek huffed out a laugh despite himself and pulled away. "I have hash browns," he said while nodding. The grin Stiles gave him almost wiped out his grumpiness but as soon as Stiles stretched he hissed from the pain in his arm and looked up at Derek guiltily.

Derek grabbed his good hand and pulled him over to the couch. He tugged Stiles' jacket off, then his plaid shirt so he could get to the sling. Stiles sighed but let Derek handle him and watched as Derek laid the sling carefully on the coffee table, then pushed the sleeve of his t-shirt up gently.

Derek pulled the bandage off Stiles' wound, which needed ten stitches to close up. His eyes flashed briefly when he saw the blood on the bandage and a low growl escaped before he could clamp down on it.

"I'm okay," Stiles assured him quietly, reaching out to tip Derek's chin up so he could look him in the eye. Derek covered Stiles' arm with his own hands as he stared back at Stiles and started leeching the pain from him, the dull ache that was deep within his muscles as they worked on knitting themselves back together.

"It's going to scar," Derek said tightly, mouth twisting into a frown.

"Just another battle wound," Stiles tried to brush it off but Derek's expression got darker.

"Shouldn't have ha-"

Stiles cut him off with a kiss. "Hey," he whispered against Derek's lips, then kissed him again. "I'm okay. It's okay, I promise."

"How?" Derek practically whined, confused at how easy Stiles was taking this.

Stiles pulled back. "Help me get my shirt off."

"Stiles, this isn't the time."

Stiles laughed but nodded. "I have a point, I promise."

Derek complied and eased Stiles' arm out of the sleeve then pulled the whole thing off over Stiles' head. He fought the urge to spread Stiles out under him on the couch and scent mark him everywhere he hadn't been able to touch in weeks but composed himself without taking his hands away from Stiles' injury.

"Every single mark on my body is a memory," Stiles started. He pointed to his hairline over his right eye. "See that? From when I ran my Jeep off the road when I was trying to find Dad when the Darach kidnapped him."

"And this?" Stiles held up his wrist where the faintest silvery scar ran across the width of his skin. "Scott and I were skateboarding and I managed to slice it on a piece of pipe because we were at a worksite we were supposed to stay away from."

"This one," Stiles pointed to a puckered circle of skin about the size of a dime. "Was from when we were fighting those jackass hunters who tried to come onto our territory and one of them stabbed me with a broken arrow—remember that?" Derek nodded, feeling his fangs itch under his gums at the thought of that fight. "Do you also remember how that was the first time you ever went full-on wolf for me? You were _so_ pissed and you wanted to rip his throat out." 

"Still do," Derek grumbled. 

"This bit here," Stiles continued while reaching to his back to poke at a scarred bit of skin Derek knew without looking at. "Is from the time we were locked up in that cold store and I got frostbite so bad. You managed to shuffle all the way across the freezer to try to keep me warm and then acted like my personal heater for three days after."

"Every scar I have has a memory attached to them and that's why I don't care about them, but the ones from the past few years I can associate with you in the best ways," Stiles explained.

"And this one?" Derek asked, nodding to the one on his arm.

"Well," Stiles started as a sly grin spread across his lips. "I think you want me to have a good memory associated with this one so I think maybe you should blow me until I can't walk. Y'know, for the memory."

Derek snorted but nodded along before slipping off the couch and reaching for Stiles' pants button. "For the memory."


End file.
